Betrayal
by D. M. Robb
Summary: What was Megara's early life like before she met Hercules?
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

"Come back here, you little thief!" called the angry vendor as twelve-year-old Megara dashed down the crowded streets, her bare feet lightly padding against the bumpy cobblestones. They were slick from an earlier rain and she struggled not to slip. "I'll have you thrown in prison for that!"

It's just an apple and I'm starving, she thought bitterly, pushing her way past irritated pedestrians and nearly colliding with an empty cart. Megara, or Meg as she liked to be called, couldn't remember her parents. She had managed to survive on the streets of Thebes since she was small. She even named herself after a famous Greek city that she had heard travelers talking about. It was a pretty name, she had thought. She couldn't remember the name her parents—whoever they had been—had given her.

She dashed into a darkened alley and was about to take a bite of her prize when she heard the tramping of heavy feet.

"She went this way! Hurry!"

Guards! Meg had eluded them often enough before and would do so now. She could hear the clattering of their sandals as she dashed down the long alley. It ended at a high wall.

Trapped! She had been certain that she knew all of the backstreets and outlets.

"We have you now, little thief," one of the guards hissed as they started toward her, wielding sharp spears.

She took a deep breath and slipped the apple into her pocket as she started climbing the wall. It was old and creviced, offering plenty of handholds. She could hear the guards panting behind as they started to follow her. The wall was high but she was quick. The slanted edge of a tiled roof overhung the wall by several inches. If I could climb up onto that roof, Meg thought, reaching for it, then I could escape.

But the tiles were slick from the earlier rain. Meg slipped, saw the hard ground rushing toward her. The wind was knocked out of her and her entire body felt as if it were on fire with agony. She heard the horrified gasps of several strangers as she slipped into unconsciousness.

"You're mine now, Sweet Cheeks," said a mocking voice.

The god Hades was standing over her, his glowing hair lighting the darkness with an eerie blue incandescence. He reached toward her with a spidery hand…

Meg shuddered. Her eyes flew open in fear.

Someone was kneeling over her, someone too blurry to make out. "I believe you're all right," he said in a kind voice. "Can you sit up?"

Meg blinked until her vision cleared. The man had a round, ruddy face and was dressed in a fine chiton.

She shuddered as she heard the tromping of several familiar sandals. The guards had found her and the apple vendor she had stolen from was with them.

"That urchin is ours," one of the guards said.

"What did she do?" the man demanded.

Meg groaned and closed her eyes. It was all over. She had been caught.

"That girl's a thief," the vendor accused, pointing at her. "I saw her sneak an apple from my cart."

"An apple?" the man said. Meg cautiously opened her eyes. "Is that all?" He tossed a gold coin at the vendor. "This will more than cover the cost of a single apple. I'll take care of the child myself."

The guards dispersed. "I'd better not catch you stealing from me again," said the vendor, turning to leave. "If you do, you'll be longing for Hades to take you to the Underworld."

Meg shivered, remembering her brief vision.

"Are you all right?" The man helped her to sit up. Everything spun for a moment but gradually stilled. Her back and sides hurt but nothing seemed to be broken. She nodded weakly. "You were just a bit winded, that's all," he continued, checking her over. "I should know. I'm a physician. But you look like you could use a decent meal and nice clothes. Come with me."

He gently helped Meg to her feet. She stared up at him, stunned. No one had ever treated her with such kindness before.

"My name is Marcus," he said as they walked. "What is yours?"

"Megara," she whispered. "But you can call me Meg."

Marcus had a fairly large home, surrounded by verdant gardens. Meg struggled not to gape as she studied the plush furniture, the intricate frescoes on the walls. But this was so new to her. She had never had a proper place to live, only alleyways or the empty rooms of abandoned buildings.

Marcus handed her over to his servants who whisked her off to the baths. There she was bathed in warm, scented waters and oils were rubbed onto her skin. The only baths she had ever had were quick dips in cold streams.

After that Meg was dressed in a silken chiton of deep purple, tied with a sash, and given jewel encrusted sandals. She had only worn tattered rags and had always gone barefoot.

"That color really brings out your eyes, dear," one woman said with admiration. "What a rare shade for eyes that is!"

Meg was stunned when she looked into a mirror. She was actually beautiful. Exotic eyes, as richly purple as her chiton, dominated her heart-shaped face. Her damp auburn hair, which tumbled past her hips, was thick and held a springy curl. She was statuesque and just beginning to develop slight womanly curves.

She was next led into a large dining hall. A table set with all kinds of food stood at its center. Meg feared that she was dreaming and might awaken at any moment.

Marcus smiled when she entered. "You cleaned up beautifully, my dear. Come and join me for a meal. There is something I would like to ask you."


	2. Chapter 2

3

**Chapter 2**

Meg swallowed, feeling suddenly nervous. I should have known, she thought with bitterness. Nothing good ever comes _this _easily.

Still, Marcus' green eyes glinted with kindness. He laughed. "Don't look so worried, my dear. Eat. You look like you haven't had a decent meal in—"

"Ever." The word came out much harsher than Meg had intended. She felt her face grow hot. Guilt tugged at her. Marcus had saved her from the guards and an uncertain fate. No one had asked him to do this. He didn't deserve her rudeness. "I'm sorry. I didn't—"

"Then what are you waiting for?" he chuckled with mock impatience. "The food will get cold. Go ahead."

Meg at first studied the food on the low table, not sure where to start. There was fish, partridge, mutton, goat cheese, bread, soup and olives. She ate hesitantly at first, savoring the varying flavors, then with ravenous greed. But she filled up quickly. This was more than she had ever eaten in a month, for as far back as she could remember.

"Do you have a family, Meg?"

She shook her head. "I remember an orphanage but I ran away from there when I was five. I've been on my own ever since." A brief flicker of anger passed through her when a look of pity crossed Marcus' face. "But I'm a big girl now and certainly can take care of myself."

Marcus grinned sadly. "So I see." Grief clouded his face. "I had been married several years ago but my beautiful wife died only a few months after the ceremony. You remind me of her somewhat. We had both wanted children but I suppose that wasn't meant to be. If we'd had a daughter, she'd be about your age by now."

Meg stiffened, not sure if she was hearing this right. "Are you asking me to be you…your…" She couldn't finish.

Marcus' ruddy cheeks deepened in color. "Only if you wish. I don't want to rush you in this decision. Stay here for a few days and see how you like it. I will have the servants set up a room for you."

Meg blinked, uncertain of what to say. She had never been at a loss for words when scrabbling with the other street urchins for scraps of food or loose coins but she couldn't think of anything to say to Marcus. Perhaps this was a dream and she'd awaken, huddled on the hard ground in some alley. But she had never felt so comfortably full during a dream.

"Sleep on it, then," Marcus said, reaching out for her hand. She instinctively pulled it back. She wasn't used to trusting others.

Meg found it difficult to sleep that night. She had been given her own room, a spacious one with a thick rug spread out across the floor, a window looking out into the gardens and a bed. The bed was soft, too soft. Meg, who was used to sleeping on the hard ground, tossed about, struggling to find a comfortable spot. And the blankets were thick, too heavy for this warm night in early summer. She kicked them off. The bright light from the full moon poured through the window and seemed to press against her eyes. The bombilation of the cicadas in the trees outside was loud, overpowering.

Meg found herself nearly laughing in frustration as she sat up. Here I am, staying in a place that is what I have only dreamed about in the past, a place owned by a wealthy physician who would like me to be his daughter and I can't sleep! I suppose I'll never get used to lying in a bed. The hard ground will always be more comfortable for me. It is all I've ever known.

She curled up onto the floor and fell asleep instantly.

When Meg awoke in the morning, the sun had replaced the moon and was gleaming warmly on her face. She was back in the bed. Someone must have picked her up off the floor early in the morning and returned her to it. I slept so deeply, she thought, that I didn't even notice. Perhaps I could get used to this.

She lay still for several moments, listening to the birdsong and smelling the summer fragrance that drifted in through the window. She felt oddly happy. This surprised her since it was an emotion that she had experienced so seldom during her short life.

When Meg finally slipped from the bed, she noticed that someone had left a porcelain basin for her to wash in and laid out a fresh tunic.

"I have made up my mind about your offer," Meg said a little later as she joined Marcus for breakfast.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The following years passed quickly for Meg as she adjusted to life as Marcus' adopted daughter. She grew accustomed to sleeping in the soft bed and enjoyed delicious meals whenever she was hungry.

How did I ever survive on the streets? she wondered. I feel as if I'm becoming a comfortable house cat!

Marcus also hired a tutor to teach her math, history and reading…things she had never been exposed to. She had a sharp mind and absorbed these subjects rapidly. Meg found that she loved to read, especially adventure stories of heroes journeying to faraway lands to battle monsters and even challenge the gods. Will I ever meet a hero like that? she began to wonder. Or ever be one myself…? Marcus had an entire library filled with scrolls containing such stories.

When Marcus felt that Meg was ready, he sent her to Orion Academy, the most prestigious school in Thebes. Although she was eager to learn, she felt intimidated by the size of the campus and the seemingly endless crowds of students, something she refused to admit to her adopted father or anyone else. She was beautiful and might have been popular had her early, hurtful experiences of living on the streets not weighed heavily upon her. She tended to avoid people, finding it difficult to trust, and developed a mordent sense of humor to compensate for these insecurities.

During the next few years at Orion Academy, Meg did have a few boyfriends, relationships that didn't last very long. Some jilted her after they learned about her early life and that the well-known physician Marcus was only her adopted father. Others cheated on her. But her worst experience was a single blind date with Prince Adonis, who was a student at the rival school Prometheus Academy in Athens. Although he was handsome with blond, shoulder-length hair and a smile of blindingly white teeth, he spoke of nothing but himself throughout the entire evening.

"Perhaps someday, Meg dear," he had said in his snobby, unctuous voice, "I can hire you on as one of my personal servants. I certainly couldn't have you as my consort, not an orphan like you. Who knows who your parents were? But as a member of my staff, you would be treated well and the pay is more than adequate."

After that, Meg vowed she would never marry. All men, well, except for Marcus, were pigs. She found solace walking with him in the gardens each evening, as they shared the events of their days. I am his only family anyway, she thought. He will need someone to care for him when he becomes old.

At school, Meg absorbed herself in her studies. There was a small garden on the far side of the campus that she visited during lunch everyday. No one ever came here so she thought of it as her own private oasis. It was scattered with olive trees and clumps of flowerbeds. A fountain bubbled at the center creating a restful sound. She would huddle beneath a tree, shaded from the hot sun, and read a scroll.

One day she noticed that she was not alone. A young man was sitting beside the fountain, painting.

At first she felt angry. This was _her_ oasis, the place where she came to be alone and get away from everyone else. What was _he _doing here?

He was concentrating so hard on what he was painting that he didn't notice her. Meg's heart fluttered slightly as she studied him. He had curly, bronze-colored hair and his skin was tanned a rich nut-brown. Although he was slender, his limbs were well muscled.

"What are you painting?" she asked before she could stop herself.

He gasped in surprise and gazed at her with eyes the pale golden shade of fresh honey. They glinted like sun sparks against the darkness of his skin.

"I'm sorry," Meg continued. "I didn't mean to startle you."

"That's quite all right," he said, his mouth shaping a lopsided grin that gave Meg a warm feeling inside…a feeling that she struggled to fight. "I could use a break anyway. My name is Damian. What is yours?"

"Megara," she said. "But everyone here calls me Meg." Clutching her scroll, she stepped toward Damian and looked at the painting on his canvas. It was of a unicorn, pale blue in color but beautifully rendered. "That's really good," she said. "But aren't unicorns usually white?"

A flush deepened Damian's dark cheeks. "Not mine. I like to paint things in colors that are not the norm. You should see my landscapes. My father says everything looks all wrong: my oceans are gold, the skies yellow, the trees red. But every other artist paints everything the same, just as you see it. I want to be different."

"I know what you mean." That queer, warm feeling continued to stir within her. No! she thought. I made a vow… "I think you should just keep painting the way you like and don't listen to your father or anyone else."

Damian's smile turned wistful. "Father wants me to go into the family business. He's a silk merchant. He's setting up a shop here in Thebes. We've just moved here from Athens."

"That's why I've never seen you here before." Meg's voice brimmed with an enthusiasm she couldn't contain.

"I attended Prometheus Academy for years but it looks like I'll be finishing up here at Orion. Father didn't want to wait until the year was up, so here I am, almost finished with school and the new kid on campus."

"Did you know Adonis?" Meg fought the sinking sensation in her stomach.

"Unfortunately, yes. That pompous—" Damian stopped, as if afraid he might say something obscene.

Meg caught herself laughing. Damian joined her. "In fact, Prometheus Academy was full of odd birds. There was this kid Hercules, a real klutz who didn't know his own strength. He was always tripping over everything and breaking things. And Icarus, who was a bit fried because he'd flown too close to the sun. He was constantly chasing after this girl named Cassandra who was the gloomiest person in the entire school, always making these awful predictions that no one would listen to. Unfortunately, they always came true."

Meg laughed again. "It sounds like you've known some characters. But I'm probably the strangest one here at Orion."

Damian took her hand—it felt strong and warm—and stared into her eyes. "I find that hard to believe." Meg swallowed. That queer sensation within her continued to grow. "You have such beautiful eyes, Meg. Such an unusual shade. I've never seen eyes that color before. I must paint your portrait someday."

Meg looked down. An awkward flush burned her cheeks.

"I'm sorry," Damian continued. "I didn't mean to embarrass you."

"No, that's all right." She stepped back a pace and began to twist a lock of curled hair around a finger. "I would love for you to paint my portrait. But first I must let you know that I was an orphan. I spent the first twelve years of my life on the streets of Thebes, stealing food. My adopted father Marcus, a physician, rescued me from some guards who wanted to arrest me for stealing an apple." She stared at the ground, certain that Damian would gather up his portrait and dash away. Admitting her past to others had created that reaction plenty of times before. Best to tell him now, she thought, and avoid heartbreak later.

Instead, he placed a hand beneath her chin and tilted her face up to look at him. His eyes…so gold, like the seas he claims to paint. They are also an unusual color, like mine, she thought. "That doesn't matter to me, Meg," he said. "What's important is who you are today, not who you were then."

He leaned forward and brushed his lips softly against hers. The kiss was brief but Meg's insides tingled with that feeling she had been fighting. Tears blurred her vision. She blinked rapidly to clear it.

A bell rang in the distance, informing the students that lunch break was over.

"Would you like to come over for dinner some time this week and meet my father?" she asked as Damian began to gather up his painting.

He smiled his lopsided grin. "It would be my pleasure. I hope to see much of you, Meg."

**Author's Note****: I know that girls didn't attend school in ancient Greece. However, that wasn't the case in the **_**Hercules **_**cartoon series where the title character had several female classmates, so that is what I am going by. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Over the next few months, Meg and Damian grew close. He came over often for dinner.

"You've found yourself a nice boyfriend, Meg," Marcus whispered to her one evening after a meal. "And not bad looking either."

Marcus was right. Damian was a wonderful young man. The only thing that bothered her about him was that once in a while, when they were strolling through the marketplace, his eyes would sometimes wander toward any pretty girl they happened to pass. That's just natural, Meg convinced herself. It's not like _my _eyes don't sometimes wander.

As their school days came to an end, they would take walks in the warm summer evenings and discuss their plans.

"We should get married soon," Damian said one evening, after he had presented Meg with an amphora that held a beautiful portrait he had done of her. Velvety warmth stirred within Meg. She rested her head on his shoulder and gazed up at a pearly crescent moon. Stars sprinkled the dusk-purple sky. "It looks like I'll have to go into Father's business, at least for now."

"Until you become a famous artist," she said. "Then you can paint all day."

He laughed softly. "Yes, until then. We'll get a place of our own, then raise a family."

"And see the world," Meg added. She turned in Damian's arms and looked into his eyes, silver-hued in the moonlight. As he leaned forward to kiss her, she noticed that his skin felt moist and feverish.

"Are you feeling all right?" Concern filled her.

"I'm just a little tired. I've been working quite a bit in one of Father's shops. I'm thinking of asking for less hours. Then I could spend more time with you."

Meg had trouble sleeping that night. There was something wrong. Damian wasn't just tired. He looked ill.

The next day, when she went to his house, her worries were confirmed. "He is terribly sick," said his mother, leading her to Damian's room. "It started yesterday and he wasn't able to get out of bed today."

Damian lay in bed, asleep. His richly colored skin held an ashen hue and was moist with perspiration. "I'll get my father," she said as a nauseous feeling crept through her stomach. "He has cures for everything."

Over the next few days, Marcus nursed Damian with various remedies but nothing helped. Meg remained by his side, holding his hand and praying to the gods for help.

In the middle of the night, she was startled from a partial doze by an eerie glow. The god Hades stood in the center of the room, his fire-blue hair blazing, his sharp-toothed grin mocking.

"Step aside, sweetheart," the death god said, striding toward the sleeping Damian. "It is time for me to reap his soul and send it into the Underworld."

Struggling to control the tremor of her legs, Meg stepped forward and looked up into his glowing yellow eyes. She recalled her brief vision from when she had fallen off that high wall as a child. "No. You can't take him," she said as confidently as she could manage.

"His time is up, chicky-poo," Hades crooned. "Now get out of the way and let me do my job." He leaned over Damian and reached out a spidery hand.

Meg was barely aware of Marcus, who had been asleep on a nearby couch, as he gasped in fear. Her focus was on Hades. She raised her head, fought the nearly paralyzing fear that trembled through her. "Stop! Take me instead."

"No, Meg!" Marcus hurried to her side. Meg forced herself to ignore him. "Don't pay for my failure!"

Hades stood back, his hair flickering. "You would do that for this, this—"

"Yes, I would. I love him."

"Silly mortal," he mumbled as he paced. "I can't take your soul since you aren't ready to die. Your thread hasn't been cut. But we might be able to strike a deal."

"Meg, what are you doing?" Marcus gasped, embracing her. Meg pushed herself away. Her heart roared in her chest as Hades continued to pace, deep in thought.

"I know. If I am to spare your boyfriend's life, you must come down with me to the Underworld and work as my slave for ten years. I will own your soul. Remember, I have the power to take away life so your father and your boyfriend could be in danger if you disobey."

"Meg, don't." Marcus stood between her and Hades.

She turned to Marcus. "Father, I love both you and Damian and I promise I won't let anything happen to you. But I must do this if I am to save Damian. Hades will take his soul otherwise."

"You have a wise daughter, there," Hades sneered. "Foolish yet wise. So, do we have a deal? My ownership of your soul to spare your boyfriend's life?" He stretched out a bony hand. Meg stared at him for a moment. "I am a very busy god and can't be delayed by such mortal sentiments. If you don't agree to my offer, I am taking your sweetheart's soul."

Meg reluctantly shook his hand. A queer tingling filled her entire body. Hades' grin broadened.

"Deal," he said with triumph.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Meg." Damian stood up from the bed. His fever was gone and his skin had regained its natural tanned glow. "Thank you. I-I promise I'll repay you for this." He drew her into his arms and kissed her.

Tears burned her eyes but she forced them back, struggled to be strong. I will have to be strong for the next ten years, she thought. Ten years. Ten years… The length of her sentence throbbed through her mind in Hades' voice. "I will miss you," she whispered to Damian through a tight throat. "Keep painting."

She reluctantly pulled away and embraced Marcus. Tears streaked his round face. "Thank you for taking me in." She kissed his wet cheek. "You have been the best father."

"And you—" he started when Hades interrupted.

"I've had enough of this sappy mortal sentiment." He grabbed Meg by the arm. In the next instant they were outside, standing beside a black chariot. Its reins were attached to a large red dragon. Hades stepped onto the chariot, pulling Meg with him. "Now it's on to the Underworld, home sweet home." He snapped the reins.

Meg felt her stomach turn as they rose into the air, the night-shadowed ground dropping away beneath. Ever since her tumble from that wall as a child when she was attempting to escape from the guards, she had been terrified of heights. She closed her eyes, gritted her teeth and prayed that the ride would be over soon.

"What's the matter, girl?" Hades mocked. "You look whiter than the souls that dwell in the River Styx."

"N-nothing," she said in a strained voice. "And I'm not 'girl.' My name is Megara."

"I prefer Nutmeg myself. Well, you're in luck. We've arrived."

Meg gasped with relief as the chariot glided through the wide maw of a great cave and drew to a stop. Hades glided to the ground and began to shout, "Pain! Panic! We have a new helper."

Meg struggled to climb down from the chariot but her legs were still trembling so badly in reaction to the flight that this was a difficult task. The dragon regarded her with a steady yellow eye.

Two small winged demons tumbled down a long stairway and collapsed in prostrate positions at Hades' feet. One was fat and pink, the other skinny and green. "Pain and Panic at your service!" they announced in raspy voices.

"Guys, I have found you a helper," Hades said, pulling Meg to his side. Pain and Panic slowly rose to their feet. They at first gaped at her, then broke into sharp-toothed grins. "This is Meg. She will be with us for ten years and must do everything we say. If not, well you know the penalty, don't you?" Hades directed Meg's attention to a dark, restless river that rushed by on the far side of the cave. Pale, wispy spirits swirled amongst the currents. "As a foolish mortal, she has loved ones that need protecting." His tone was sinister, mocking. "Isn't that right, my little Nutmeg?" He placed his cold fingers beneath her chin and tilted her face up until her gaze met his. His eyes glowed an ominous yellow against his gray skin.

"Yes," she whispered. Inside she felt defeated and tired.

"Good. I'll give you a tour. You might as well make yourself at home because you will be living here for the next ten years…or maybe more, if you make too many mistakes. Now, I'm very busy with some plans—this whole taking over Mount Olympus thing that you needn't worry your pretty head about. But I do have plenty of pets that need feeding. You already met my dragon." He led her to the entrance of another cave. An enormous, three-headed dog lay before it, fast asleep. All the heads were snoring. "That's Cerberus, my guard dog. And there are plenty of other monsters to feed. My caves will also need cleaning. No one has cleaned up in here for, oh I don't know. Centuries perhaps. But you do look tired." His tone turned surprisingly sympathetic. "You've had a rough night. I'll show you to your room where you can get some rest before you get to work. I know you mortals need inordinate amounts of rest."

Meg felt slightly relieved. She _was _tired since she had hardly slept over the last few nights when she had been taking care of Damian. Hades led her down a long corridor lit by dismal torches. The corridor grew narrower and narrower, ending at a tiny cramped cave. The ceiling was so low that she couldn't stand up straight once she entered and it smelled of moisture. Meg felt a sinking in her chest. "Is this it? There's nothing in here."

"Well, you are a prisoner," Hades sneered, turning to leave. "What were you expecting? A luxury suite? Get some sleep. You have a lot of work ahead of you for tomorrow."

Meg sighed and settled onto the cold, damp floor. It was hard and uncomfortable. If only I'd come here immediately after living on the streets, she thought. I've grown too used to comfort these past years as Marcus' daughter!

Thoughts of Marcus and then Damian jabbed at her. Now that she was alone, she allowed the tears to come. They felt warm on her face, almost comforting.

Meg lost track of time working in the Underworld but she was constantly busy. She scrubbed the seemingly endless floors of the caves and fed all of Hades' monster pets. Pain and Panic frequently bothered her, either by tracking mud across a freshly scrubbed floor or with practical jokes, by using their shape-shifting powers to disguise themselves as various beasts and monsters. Meg quickly caught onto their antics and forced herself to ignore them.

Still, Hades was often difficult to please. If she missed a spot on the floor or fed a monster the wrong food, he yelled, threw flames and threatened to add more years to her sentence. "That's not fair!" she protested. "You promised that it would be only ten years."

Hades would merely grin and point at the River Styx. "You do realize that, as the god of death, I could have the Fates cut the threads of your loved ones? They would make fine additions to my collection of souls, wouldn't they?"

Meg would sigh and bow her head. "Fine. You win, for now." She did worry about the increasing length of her sentence. If Hades stretched it out too far, she'd be old by the time she was free to marry Damian. There would be no time for them to enjoy life together and starting a family by then would require a miracle of the gods.

During her rare moments of respite, Meg would look out at the endless souls floating in the River Styx. Were they going somewhere or just flowing in a never-ending cycle through those waters? Were her parents, whoever they'd been, among them? The sight of those pale, wispy spirits filled her with a melancholy that was difficult to alleviate.

"You have been working here for many months now," Hades said one day. "I think you have earned a day off." Meg felt as if she were about to fall over. Had she heard him right? Hades meant to give her a break? "You can spend the day up there among the mortals, visiting those precious loved ones of yours but you must be back here before sundown. If you aren't, I'm adding five more years to your sentence." Meg fought an irrational urge to kiss Hades.

As she emerged from the Underworld caves, she blinked against the too-bright sunlight. Then she stood still for several moments and allowed its warmth to sink into her skin. The air smelled of spring, the colors were almost too fulgent: the silver-green leaves of the olive trees, the multiple hues of the flowers, the rich blue of the ocean beyond. How different this was from the dull, monochromatic shades of the Underworld! Damian would paint everything a different shade but, to Meg, standing there, viewing the world as if for the first time, everything was perfect just the way it was.

She visited Marcus first. He embraced her tightly, nearly crushing the air from her. "It's been so lonely without you, Meg," he said, looking her over. "You look well. A little pale, but good."

As they shared a lunch of mutton and pita bread, Meg told him all about working for Hades.

"You really feed his monsters?" he asked, his eyes growing wide. "Isn't that dangerous?"

She smiled and shook her head. "They are actually quite docile. But what about you?"

"The same," he replied. "I'm continuing to fix broken bones, find new cures for ailments, the usual. I've also been training younger physicians. I'm thinking of retiring soon, selling the house and getting a smaller place away from the city, by the sea. What do you think?"

Tears touched Meg's eyes as she studied the fine wrinkles that lined her adopted father's face. He was getting older. Would he still be around in ten years or would he be among the dead in the River before her sentence was up? She forced herself not to think of this. "That sounds wonderful. Have you seen much of Damian?" Her heart leaped when she heard herself say his name.

Marcus shook his head. "Not for a while. He used to visit quite often but he hasn't been by lately. Perhaps his father is keeping him busy."

"Perhaps," Meg murmured. Worry gnawed at her. Could he have become ill again? Would Hades have informed her if Damian had died and joined the River?

After saying a tearful goodbye to Marcus and promising that she would visit again as soon as she had another chance, she started across Thebes' marketplace, toward Damian's house. The sun was sinking in the sky. Hades' warning of adding five more years throbbed in her head with each step she took.

Deep in thought and pushing her way through the crowded streets, she bumped into someone. As she started to turn and apologize, she found herself staring into the pale golden eyes of a handsome young man. A pretty blonde woman wearing a too-short tunic was clinging to his arm.

"Damian!" Meg gasped. Her head spun. Who was that woman? Certainly not his sister…

"Megara?" His eyes widened. "I-I didn't think I'd see you for years."

"So I see," Meg replied, forcing back her tears.

"Meg, this is Danea, my wife."

Wife?

"Hello," Danea said, a smug smile on her beautiful face. Meg felt as urge to throttle her.

"I found I couldn't wait for you, dear," Damian continued, his tone growing flippant. "I appreciate what you did for me but really, ten years is just too long to wait. I still have a life to live."

"Which you almost didn't," Meg mumbled sarcastically as she walked away. She struggled to contain her emotions as she pushed through the crowd and made her way back to the Underworld.

Her tears streamed freely as she entered the cold, damp caverns. Damian, how could he? He had promised to wait. She had given up _ten _years of her life for him, possibly even more. How could I have been so stupid? she thought. He was just a man. A selfish pig of a man.

"Back so soon?" Hades crooned.

"I-I just want to be left alone." She wasn't in the mood to argue with him.

"It's that boy whose life you spared in exchange for your soul, isn't it?"

Meg turned. Her rage deepened. "You knew about that? Is that why you gave me the day off?"

"You had to find out sooner or later, Nutmeg. How else will you learn your lesson? Maybe next time you will think before you do something so noble."

"Believe me, I will." She returned to her cave where she knelt on the hard ground and wept until her tears ran out. "I vow I will _never_ fall in love again," she sobbed.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Over the next several days, Meg couldn't be roused from her depression. It lay upon her chest like a crushing weight. She found that she didn't have the energy to work or feed Hades' pets. "I don't care if you add more years to my sentence," she told him in a bitter tone. "I just want to be left alone."

"Look, Meg. I can't have you moping about these caves. You're gloomier than all those dead souls." He pointed toward the River. "So I have a task for you. Something to get your mind off what's-his-name, your ex-boyfriend."

"Nothing can do that," she murmured.

"I think this might. You see, I've been working on a secret project for my hostile takeover of Mount Olympus and figured you might want to be a part of it." She nodded, not really caring what Hades was babbling about. "As you know, I've been gathering monsters from all over that would eventually help me overthrow that stuck up brother of mine, Zeus. Most have been eager but there's this one creature, Nessus, a giant centaur and River Guardian, who's been especially difficult. This will be perfect job for you since, shall we say, he has a soft spot for beautiful young ladies."

Meg ignored his final comment but she did want to get away from those gloomy caves. They only increased her depression. And, ever since Damian's betrayal, she didn't really care whose side she was on. She worked for Hades and if, for some reason, he wanted revenge on Zeus…well, that was not her problem. She would simply do Hades' bidding if it meant keeping Marcus safe.

"Oh, and if you succeed in this task, I will subtract two years from your sentence."

Two years! It wasn't much but it was something. If she accomplished this, she could join Marcus in his cottage by the sea even sooner than expected.

Hades carried her on his chariot to a pretty, tree-filled valley with a wide river running through it. An enormous blue centaur, more than three times Meg's size, was leaning against one of the trees, sound asleep.

"He's all yours," Hades whispered, whirling away in a puff of smoke.

Meg's heart roared as she approached the beast. This shouldn't be too difficult, she thought. After all, I've spent many days feeding and cleaning up after Hades' monster pets. All I have to do is ask him to join Hades' rebellion and I could go free two years sooner.

"Nessus," she whispered, tapping him on his thick arm.

His eyes rolled open. "Huh?" He gaped at her momentarily with a vacant expression. One that turned into a malicious grin.

"A beautiful damsel has come for me," he gasped, lumbering to his hooves.

"I-I just wanted to ask you something. You see, Hades—"

"I'll do anything you ask if you just give me a kiss." He stumbled toward her, his hooves stomping the ground.

Meg darted back, splashing into the river. Its chill startled her but she didn't care. She just had to get away from Nessus…yet somehow convince him to join Hades' cause. This was going to be much more difficult than she expected!

"Come on, sweetheart, just one kiss." Nessus reached for her with an enormous hand. Meg screamed and splashed water at him. She tried to run but the mossy rocks at the bottom were slippery and she stumbled.

The centaur grabbed her with one hand and lifted her off her feet.

"Nessus!" She struggled against his iron grasp. "Put me down!"

Through the corner of her eye, she saw a large white horse with wings and a blue mane land nearby. It was carrying a young man and a short, stout satyr.

"Halt!" called a strong, masculine voice.

Nessus' grasp on Meg loosened slightly. She stopped struggling and looked toward the voice. The young man stood up to his shins in the river. He was tall and well-muscled.

"Step aside, two-legs," Nessus grumbled.

"Pardon me, my good sir," the young man continued. "I'll have to ask you to release the young lady."

Meg felt a tremor of anger. Who was he? He'll ruin everything! "Back off, Atlas," she snapped.

He gaped at her with confusion in his bright blue eyes. "But aren't you a damsel in distress?"

So typical of men like him, she thought. Always believing that women are helpless. Still, I could use some help with Nessus… "I'm a damsel. I'm in distress. But I can handle it." She forced a smile. "Have a nice day."

The young man ran a hand through his curly golden hair. "Uh, ma'am. I'm afraid you may not realize—"

Nessus, still clinging to Meg, punched him in the face and sent him flying. He splashed into the water and emerged, coughing and sputtering.

"What are you doing?" yelled the satyr from the shore. "Get your sword!"

The golden haired youth splashed about some more in the water, probably searching for his sword. "Right. Rule number fifteen." He plucked out a fish and aimed it at Nessus. "A hero is only as good as his weapon."

Nessus tossed his head back with a loud laugh. He punched the youth again, sending him crashing into a nearby rock.

"Come on, kid!" shouted the satyr. "Concentrate! Use your head!"

"Oh." The young man pulled himself up and ran into Nessus head first, ramming him in the stomach.

Meg was flung from Nessus' grasp. She splashed into the cold yet shallow water, felt the stones at the bottom prickling her skin through her long chiton. She sat up with a groan. Her long wet hair fell over her face.

"Aw, gee, miss," she heard the young man say as she felt him pull her into his strong arms. "I'm really sorry. That was dumb."

Yes it was, she wanted to say as she wrung out her dripping hair.

"Excuse me," he said, after he placed her on a large rock, next to his satyr companion. He dashed back to Nessus and gave the centaur a punch that sent him flying into the sky, his horse shoes sailing after him.

Meg stared, stunned. That young man may be awkward, she thought. But he certainly was _strong. _"Is Wonder Boy for real?" she asked the satyr.

She was surprised when he crawled into her lap. "I'm real too, Sweet Cheeks." Repulsed, Meg shoved him into the water and continued watching the young man as she straightened her damp hair.

Nessus crashed back into the river. He emerged momentarily, only to be clobbered one by one by his horse shoes. He passed out in the water with a huge lump forming on his forehead.

Meg slipped off the rock to rinse her muddy sandals in the river.

"How was that, Phil?" the young man asked the satyr.

Meg focused on her task as the two fell into a heated discussion. What an odd pair! They had just appeared from nowhere, riding that strange winged horse.

"Are you all right, Miss, uh…" the young man said, distracting her. He seemed to be fishing for her name.

"Megara," she said, standing up so fast that she slapped his face with her long hair. "My friends call me Meg." Those words made her feel slightly wistful. What friends? "That is, if I had any friends." She glanced over his tightly muscled limbs, glistening with the moisture from the river, then up into his brilliant blue eyes. They were kind eyes but she forced that thought away. He was a man and all men were the same, eager to cheat and betray the first chance they had. Well, except for her adopted father. "So, did they give you a name with all those rippling pectorals?"

"Hercules," he said breathlessly. "My name is Hercules."

Meg found herself wanting to linger but fought that urge. She needed to get back to Hades and report her failure to recruit the River Guardian. He wasn't going to like that and might even add more years to her sentence. What did it matter, anyway? She had no one to wait for…

…except for this Hercules. No! she silently scolded herself.

"Well, thanks for everything, Herc. It's been a real slice." She turned to leave.

"Wait! Um, can we give you a ride?"

The white winged horse snorted angrily and flew up into the high branches of an apple tree. It's just as well, Meg thought. I'd rather avoid heights if I can help it. "I don't think your pinto likes me very much."

"Pegasus?" Hercules laughed. "Oh, don't be silly. He'd be happy to—" An apple struck his head. "Ow!" He glared up at Pegasus.

Meg struggled not to laugh. "It'll be all right. I'm a big tough girl." She reluctantly started to walk away. "Bye-bye, Wonder Boy."

After she had gone a ways, she looked back. Hercules and Phil were riding away on Pegasus. A queer feeling trembled through her. There was something different about Hercules and it wasn't just his incredible strength. No. There was a kindness in his eyes, something that those of no other man, not even Damian's for all their golden allure, possessed. Well, except for Marcus. It was the same kindness that had been reflected in his eyes when he had rescued her from the guards all those years ago.

Perhaps Hercules was different.

Meg figured she would worry about that later. But for now she had to confront Hades.

The End

**(Note: I decided stop here since the rest is covered in the movie.) **


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